


You must suffer me to go my own dark way

by walkthroughhale



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 17:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11536758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthroughhale/pseuds/walkthroughhale
Summary: A oneshot written for a group rp I'm involved in on Tumblr - in which Alaric is held in a deep, supernaturally charged sleep and stuck in a dream state. He went by Alaric until two years ago when he changes his name to Zave Jones.





	You must suffer me to go my own dark way

** “In dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own.”  **   


The psychic had passed out almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow. The stress of the Virgin Sacrifices he’d been working had him near breaking point, the shifts hours getting longer and longer causing him to welcome sleep when it came rather than fear it as he so regularly did. Though there was something so strange about the blackness that filled his mind as he succumbed to the exhaustion plaguing his body, dreams that were normally filled with terror and panic tonight turned to light and peace.

The sky above him such a brilliant blue it almost hurt to glance up at it; the greenery surrounding him such an elegant green it was like they glowed luminescent. Alaric stepped hesitantly forward and with each step he took, a thin cobbled path appeared beneath him. The stones a warm white, shining brightly under the suns gaze just like everything else around him. “What. The. Hell.” 

Muttering to himself as he continued forward, unsure exactly what was going on. There was something so  **lucid**  about the dream that had sucked the psychic under. He could feel the warmth of the sun, smell the soft greenery of the nature surrounding him, hear the birds chirp in the distance sure as if he were physically walking through this path in the woods  _himself_. Were supernatural occurrences not happening he’d have sworn he’d fallen through a portal to this mysterious place. Were his powers advancing? Was this all part of his psychic half?

Suddenly, a flash of white appeared above his head and a heavy black and gold object fell through the sky, the sun glinting off the metal just as he snapped a hand out, catching it mid air. Glancing down at the object, he realized it was his NOPD badge, the emblem of the precinct etched into the middle with his name: Alaric Saltzman scrawled beneath it. His thumb rubbed over the words, a pang in his chest at the change of identity.

The words shifted, changing before his eyes on the bright gold. Zave Jones now sitting where his alias previously lay, The pang in his chest grew to a greater pain as the memories of his past life filled his mind. In a moment of weakness blind to anyone but himself he allowed himself to feel the loss of the man he was. The badge fell from his fingers, free falling through the air from his height before vanishing into another flash of white. 

Shaking it off he kept walking through the path, visions now appearing in the air around him like projected screens of his life. His parents lecturing him about his heritage, his brother telling him he’d never be fit to run J&J the way he was going...the further he walked the more he saw. The first time he laid eyes on Eliza, the sound of her laugh echoing through his mind as he saw the visions change to their first kiss, the first time they slept together..

Her naked body writhing under his own as she screamed his name in ecstasy, the screams then changing to the bloodcurdling kind that only the promise of death could elicit. The next screen showed her body bleeding out on the concrete as he ran to her, her name on his lips moaned out in mourning, in a way that only a lover can. 

“Zave...” His own name the last thing she’d ever said before she let go, her soul ebbing from her body never to return. It was the last time that name had been spoken, the shift in identity happening in that very moment. Suddenly day turned to night, shifting from a brilliant warmth to a bone chilling cold. 

Words scrawled in what looked like dripping blood appeared in the air, replacing the visions he’d been seeing. He cried out as he realized what they were saying:  **Alaric Saltzman**. The identity he had assumed when he lost his lover. The name of the man who lived with an icebox where his heart used to be and a dark abyss where his soul should be... The dream threw him awake in a violent burst, a scream on his lips and a heart that was pounding against his chest as he sucked in breath after shaky breath. “ _What the hell is going on...?_ ”


End file.
